One Step Closer
by insaneantics21
Summary: Dreams are peculiar things. For Santana, her worst nightmare comes true with the words "there's been an accident". It takes thousands of steps to rebuild her life and replace the nightmare with her greatest dreams.
1. Chapter 1

**Pairings/Characters:** Santana/Brittany, Brittany's parents (John and Anna), several original characters, side Rachel/Quinn and their children: Gabriela, Ethaniel, Adrian, Susan, Harmony, and Jonah  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG-13  
><strong>Length:<strong> ~20,600 words  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Dreams are peculiar things. For Santana, her worst nightmare comes true with the words "there's been an accident". It takes thousands of steps to rebuild her life and replace the nightmare with her greatest dreams.  
><strong>Author's Note #1:<strong> This has been in my "In Progress" folder for well over a year and was originally a Rachel/Quinn. I honestly thought I would never finish it but about a month or so ago I decided to pick it back up, convert it to Santana/Brittany, rewrite everything I already had written, and then finish it.  
><strong>Author's Note #2:<strong> I am by no means a doctor but I did as much as I could to make it accurate. I know someone who went through very similar things and so a lot of the details were pulled from that. So I guess you could say that this is inspired by true events.  
><strong>Music:<strong> My 'inspirational soundtrack' for this story:  
><em>A Thousand Years – Christina Perri<em> (also the inspiration for the title)  
><em>1000 Ships – Rachel Platten<em>(I also highly recommend the rest of her music)

* * *

><p><strong>-Chapter 1-<strong>

Dreams are peculiar things. For Santana Lopez, the one she was having was about to become eerily real. There were flashes of snapped wires and hospitals. Blonde hair and terrified blue eyes. Helplessness and rage. Of course, she had no idea what it all meant. At least not until her dreams were interrupted by the sound of her phone going off ("I'm a Bitch" as her ringtone, naturally). What she did know, as she fought her way back to consciousness, was that something _definitely_wasn't right. Santana first checked her clock and found that it was well past midnight, before realizing that A) Brittany wasn't in bed with her which was odd since the blonde was almost always home from her show before eleven and B) That her phone had fallen to the floor in her haste to try to answer it. Knowing she only had a few seconds before it would go to voicemail, she didn't bother to look at who might be trying to call.

"Hello?" Santana answered with a yawn, rubbing her eyes and somewhere in a far corner of her brain praying that it was Brittany telling her she'd lost her keys (again) and needed to be let in.

"Santana Lopez?" a female voice (definitely _not_Brittany) asked on the other line. The first thing Santana noticed was chaotic background noise of voices and beeps. It put a knot in her stomach and a lump in her throat because this wasn't bar noise or backstage noise. It was unfamiliar and a little terrifying. Willing herself to fully wake up and focus on the conversation, Santana shook her head a little and finally responded.

"Speaking."

"You're listed as the emergency contact for Brittany S. Pierce?"

"Yeah, did she get lost again?"

To the woman on the other line it may have sounded a little mean but to Santana it was another prayer that Brittany had gotten off at the wrong train station or ended up in the wrong apartment building and some kind person was looking through the blonde's wallet to help her figure out where she belonged... Anything but what her knotted stomach told her it really was.

"There's been an accident."

All Santana waited for was the name of the hospital and where to go before she dropped her phone and made a quick dash to her dresser, grabbing whatever sweatpants and sweatshirt she could find. She grabbed her phone from the bed, her keys from the rack by the door, and her purse on the coathanger while she slipped on the nearest pair of shoes (Brittany's running shoes, she later noticed) and was out of the apartment in under two minutes.

Another prayer, this time a thank you for New York City's 24-hour cab service, was sent up when Santana almost immediately got a cab outside of her apartment. She directed the man to New York Presbyterian Hospital, oddly enough right across the street from her office. It was strange, she thought during what she was sure to be the longest cab ride of her life, that she'd seen the hospital nearly every single day for the last few years but had never given a second thought to it. Yet now she had the feeling that the walls were going to become more than familiar.

The cab had just barely slowed down when Santana threw a $50 bill at the man and yelled for him to keep the change as she practically jumped out of the cab and dashed in to the emergency room entrance.

"Brittany Susan Pierce," she gasped at the window. "Please."

The look on the face of the woman at the reception desk should've told Santana that whoever she talked to wasn't going to have good news. She felt herself being taken by the arm and tugged gently down a hallway, the nurse with dark skin glancing at her every now and then while her lips moved. Santana didn't hear anything. Only blood rushing in her ears and her heart pounding. She was only focused on getting to Brittany at that moment.

"Ms. Lopez did you hear me?" the nurse said when they stopped outside a room.

Santana shook her head.

"She's not awake, the doctors have sedated her. She's in a neck brace to keep her from moving and also on a ventilator to keep her breathing, do you understand?"

Santana's breath caught in her throat. She nodded weakly. "H-how long has she been here?"

"About an hour."

"Wh-why didn't I get the call?"

"We had a four-car pile up come in about the same time as she came did," the nurse said. "I'm sorry you didn't get called right away but there was nothing you could've done if you'd been here, honey."

"She's okay, right? She'll be fine."

The nurse only took a deep breath and squeezed Santana's arm a little before pulling her into the room. The monitors were beeping, the sound of the ventilator was rhythmic. And there, in a single bed with blonde hair cascading across the pillow and only a few small bruises on the side of her face, lie Brittany – a tube sticking out of her mouth, wires seemingly coming from everywhere and connected to the monitors and her long neck in a brace, completely immobilized.

"That's not her," Santana whispered. "That's not B. It can't be."

But it was. The nurse pushed Santana toward the bed and the brunette stared down at her girlfriend. She looked fine if it weren't for the bruises. As if nothing had even happened except maybe walking into a door.

"From what we were told it was after the show," the nurse said. "They were doing some setting and her harness malfunctioned. She fell about twenty feet and it was enough... The doctor will explain more when he comes in."

Flashes of the dream she'd been woken from went through Santana's brain. The feeling of eerie familiarity made her shiver. "Enough? Enough to what?"

"Ms. Lopez?" A tall, pale man with gray hair and small glasses stepped into the room. "Ms. Lopez, I'm Dr. Harris. I'm an orthopedic surgeon."

Santana nodded and the nurse pulled a chair to the side of the bed for the brunette to sit in. She pulled it even closer and slipped her hand into Brittany's. There was no response.

"Your partner has sustained a rather dangerous injury, Ms. Lopez," Dr. Harris said, his voice monotone and serious. "Her x-ray shows she has shattered part of her spine, vertebrae C-seven and T-one." Santana watched as the man held up a sheet of paper with a drawing of a person's neck, spine included. Dr. Harris pointed to the two vertebrae right where Brittany's neck met her shoulders. "We're fairly certain that, by some miracle, it did not sever her spinal cord which is the best thing that could've happened in this situation. Our best bet to make sure she has as a good recovery as she can get is to do surgery to repair the vertebrae as soon as possible."

"Wh-what? What kind of surgery?"

"The way the vertebrae broke we would need to remove bone from another part of her body, hip would be the best, and use it to replace what she's lost. After that it would be a waiting game."

Santana looked down at her girlfriend and nodded. "Whatever helps," the brunette whispered. "Just fix her."

XXXXXXXXXX

An hour later Santana found herself sitting in the waiting room outside of the operating wing. The doctor, a nurse, and some other woman with a stack of paperwork had talked to her for a good half-hour on the risks of the surgery (her spinal cord could be permanently damaged, there could be infection, she could have brain damage ranging from mild to severe, death...) and what to expect for the time after surgery (not too much, was all Santana could gather). Brittany's parents' house phone number had been on her phone screen waiting for her to hit "call" for the remainder of that hour. A few deep breaths to compose herself and Santana finally pushed the green button. She shook as she quietly told Brittany's mother where she was and why.

"Stay strong, Santana," Anna had said. "We'll get the first flight out. Just be there for her alright, sweetie?"

It was only after that Santana realized she had a voicemail, timestamped right around the time she was in the shower. She cursed herself for never checking them before she went to bed. Brittany's messages were almost always texts.

_Hey San. It's intermission. I'm gonna be late, they got new harnesses in and I have to stay to get it fitted. I'll see you when I get home. Love you_

Not wanting to kill her phone battery, Santana stopped listening to it after the fifth time. Seven hours and three updates that it would be "a little longer" and "we're doing everything we can" later, Santana had begun to yet again fall asleep on the couch. The nurses told her after the first three hours that she might as well try to rest because staying awake was only going to make time go slower. It was the only thing making her sleep, knowing that time would fly by. She watched as her eyelids dropped for the blue shoe covers she'd seen walk to other families.

"Santana?"

The Latina snapped up to a sitting position, Dr. Harris' scrub-clad legs in front of her. As she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes the doctor sat down and, for the umpteenth time that day, Santana prayed. She prayed that what he was about to say was at least a little good.

"She's stable," he said. "We did what we could and we consider the surgery a success as far as repairing the vertebrae. She has a titanium plate and screws in as well as a piece of bone we removed from her hip. We'll have to keep her sedated for a few days at least to give it time to heal a little. After that we'll let her wake up and see if there's been damage to the spinal cord. There were no visible tears or leakages but bruising can still do a lot of damage."

Santana could only nod. She was so numb at this point that she had no questions and didn't want any answer other than Brittany was going to be okay. Dr. Harris patted her on the shoulder and in a few seconds a nurse was at Santana's side and tugging on her arm as she led the way to recovery. Brittany was in her own, small room at least – as opposed to the rows of beds behind curtains that Santana had passed. They'd taken the blonde off of the ventilator; at least now Santana had one less thing to remind her that her life was probably never going to be the same again. One big reminder, however, was the almost cage-like neck brace encompassing Brittany's upper body along with the surgical brace around her neck.

Brittany was in recovery for two hours before the doctor consented that she was stable enough to be moved up to the ICU. Santana never let go of the bed railing. The team of nurses moved swiftly but carefully in getting Brittany situated in the new room – they put cuffs on Brittany's legs to help keep circulation going since the blonde wasn't going to be moved any more than what was necessary until she was brought out from under the sedation.

None of the other rooms had windows and it was the first time Santana realized there was an outside world since she'd received the phone call. She could see her office building with the Chase Bank logo lit up against the dawn sky. Not really remembering exactly what day it was, she checked her phone to see that it was Saturday. She sent a text to Brittany's mother to let her know exactly where they were and then she waited. For what, she was unsure. But she waited.

Twelve hours after Santana called the Pierce home, John and Anna stepped quietly into the ICU room. Anna's eyes were brimmed with tears and John's face went pale at the sight of his daughter. Knowing that the nurses would be in the room in only a few seconds to remind them of the two-visitor rule, Santana hugged them each quickly and tried to get out the door before being caught by the arm. They tried asking her questions about how long Brittany would be there and what the doctors did but all Santana could do was shake her head and whisper, "I don't know."

Once out of John's grip, Santana headed out of the ICU wing to the lounge bathroom where she knew no one would hear her. When she was locked safely in the women's restroom she gripped onto the sink with all of her might, almost willing it to crumble in her hands as her life had done in the last fourteen hours. It didn't work. All she could do was sob until she made herself sick and mumble prayers that the nightmare would end.


	2. Chapter 2

**-Chapter 2-**

The days passed slowly, the sun rose and fell. But Santana didn't notice. Her eyes were fixated on few things. That Sunday she had turned her brain on enough to call her boss at home and explain what was going on. Surprisingly sympathetic for a boss in a major corporation, he told her to figure out what she needed to do through the rest of the day and to call him on Monday. Santana was able to access her time sheet from her phone and calculate all of her vacation and sick days. She would use them all if she had to.

Nurses became known on a first-name basis as did the cleaning staff and the cafeteria workers. Within five days of the accident, the lawyers for Brittany's dance company called and said that the harness company would be paying for all medical expenses relating to Brittany's injury as well as Brittany's salary for a year to avoid a bigger lawsuit. All Santana had to do was sign the settlement papers. She did it against the advice of her own lawyer, only to avoid being tied up in court rooms when she knew Brittany would need her.

Aside from visits by the lawyers and Brittany's friends and co-stars, the outside world stopped existing to Santana. What existed were the ICU walls, hospital shower rooms, and the cafeteria. John and Anna stayed in Santana and Brittany's apartment while the Latina slept on a couch in the lounge since the hospital policy forbid anyone from staying in the ICU rooms. Santana was practically numb as she watched the rising and falling of the sun. The only reality she wanted was sedated in a hospital bed.

XXXXXXXXXX

One day, when the sun rose, the doctor stopped Brittany's sedation medication and Santana waited. She waited for eyelids to flutter open and Brittany's bright blue eyes to meet hers and to tell her she loved her. She waited for Brittany to spring out of bed and start dancing. She waited. The sun fell and she still waited. The sun rose again and Santana still waited.

The sun was covered with storm clouds and it was thundering. The only thing Santana was watching, though, were Brittany's eyes. Underneath her eyelids her eyes had been darting back and forth for two hours. John and Anna, clearly breaking the two people to a room rule (the nurses had stopped trying to enforce it after a few days), had their focus exactly the same as Santana's.

For one brief moment, Santana's eyes flickered away from Brittany's and to the wall clock. It was 2:16pm. When her eyes flickered back to Brittany's the blonde's eyes had stopped moving but something else had started. Slowly, bright blue eyes began appearing as Brittany opened her eyelids. Knowing that the blonde would most likely wake up petrified, Santana stood and hovered right in her line of vision, ensuring that she'd be the first thing Brittany saw. Immediately, bright blue connected with dark brown. There was confusion and fear behind Brittany's eyes and tears started forming. Santana's hand immediately went to the top of Brittany's head and began stroking her hair to comfort her girl.

"It's okay, babe," Santana whispered. "Don't try to move or talk, okay? I'm right here."

In a few minutes a nurse was in Brittany's room and the blonde's eyes shifted to her.

"We'll get Dr. Harris up here as soon as we can."

Santana nodded and mouthed an okay, her attention going right back to Brittany. The blonde's eyes were still filled with fear and now questions as they moved between her parents and Santana. Knowing it was up to her, Santana took a deep breath and began whispering.

"There was an accident," Santana said. "You fell...you broke your neck, B." The heart monitors above Santana's head began to beep a little more rapidly, Brittany swallowed hard and the tears that had begun forming were now dripping down her face. Her mother wiped them away cautiously, avoiding the bars of the neck brace. "They fixed as much as they could but...but they won't know if it worked for a while. The doctor is going to come in and see you in a little while, okay?"

Despite Santana's orders, Brittany tried speaking but all she could manage was barely a whisper.

"Dance."

It almost killed Santana. The one word almost hurt her more than all of the emotions in the last week. The one thing that Brittany loved almost as much as Santana and her family...and Santana had to tell her that she wasn't sure if it could ever happen again. With tears in her eyes, she had to confirm what was probably one of Brittany's worst nightmares.

"I don't know, Britt."

Dr. Harris stepped in just as Brittany tore her eyes away from Santana and stared back up at the ceiling, tears rolling out of the corners of her eyes. The doctor waited at Santana's "one minute" hand gesture as she helped Anna wipe away Brittany's tears.

"Brittany, my name is Dr. Harris," the man said, stepping into the room and into Brittany's line of sight. "I don't want you to talk right now, just do as I say. I want you to blink one time if you understand that."

Brittany blinked once.

"You sustained serious damage to your spine, Brittany," the doctor said calmly. "We had to do surgery on your neck and take a piece of bone from your hip and use titanium plates and screws to repair the damage. We won't know for a while the extent of the damage to your spinal cord. You're in a brace right now to keep you from moving. Blink twice if you understand that."

Brittany blinked twice.

"Alright, we're going to try some talking. Can you try to say your name?"

"Brittany," the blonde choked.

"Very good." The doctor pulled back the blankets to reveal both of Brittany's hands, an IV sticking out of the back of her right one as it had for the last week. "I want you to wiggle the fingers on your left hand."

Santana almost said something about Brittany not really knowing her rights from her lefts but when she glanced at Brittany's other hand there was no movement there, either. It put the knot back in her stomach that had only disappeared minutes before when Brittany opened her eyes.

"Right hand, Ms. Pierce?"

Still nothing.

"Move either one of your arms, Brittany."

Again, nothing.

The tears that slipped down Santana's cheeks immediately went from hopeful to crushed.

Dr. Harris pulled the blankets back up over the blonde's arms and went to the computer in her room and started typing, a few disappointed sighs coming from his direction. Santana waited patiently. It was all she could do. When the ticking stopped, Dr. Harris pulled a metal probe out of one of the drawers and pulled the blankets at the bottom of Brittany's bed up exposing her bare feet. If she could see them, Santana was sure Brittany would ask her for a pedicure, as the polish had been taken off by one of the nurses during one of Brittany's mild sponge baths. There would be time for that later.

Santana watched the doctor run the probe up the length of the blonde's foot. Nothing happened. Same with the other. Santana wasn't sure what he was looking for but the non-response scared her. The doctor's frown scared her even more. By the time Santana looked back to Brittany's eyes they were closed, her mouth open and chin trembling. She was trying desperately not to cry even more.

"What's going on?" Santana finally managed to choke out.

"Right now," the doctor sighed walking back up to Brittany's line of sight, "Brittany, your extremities are unresponsive. That's not to say it won't get better. You've been unconscious for days; your brain needs time to start up again. We're going to try again tomorrow, alright?"

"Okay," Brittany whispered.

"I'm going to have a nurse get you some water, I know you're probably thirsty."

"Yeah."

Dr. Harris patted Santana on the shoulder, a reassuring gesture that barely eased her nerves. There was no reassurance possible at this point. How could there be when, in a matter of seconds, her entire life had been changed. She had always been Brittany's protector, her caretaker. The meaning of those words had just taken on an entirely new definition. But Santana was more than willing to do it.

"San?"

The brunette's head snapped back to the soft voice from the bed, breaking her own thoughts and again focusing solely on her girlfriend.

"I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."

"I love you."

"I love you, too. I meant it, Britt. I'm not going anywhere, got it?"

Brittany only closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she reopened them, her eyes focused on the bars surrounding her head and what she could see of the hospital room, trying to take in her surroundings. Santana let her have her quiet and took Brittany's hand under the blanket, squeezing gently. She perked up when Brittany's eyebrows furrowed and she attempted to look down.

"Did you feel that?" Santana asked, breath catching in her throat.

"I think so."

Swallowing hard and with a heart full of hope, Santana squeezed again. This time, Brittany smiled.

"I felt it," Brittany stated.

"That's better than nothing."

That's what the physical therapist told them, too. Her name was Delilah, Santana had seen her on the floor with some of the other patients. Her blonde hair sported blue streaks and bits of tattoos poked out from underneath the sleeves of her scrubs. She looked small but Santana had seen her help lift a man that was twice her size so she knew the girl could hold her own.

Delilah came in twice a day and moved Brittany's legs to keep the blood flowing and keep her joints from stiffening. The cuffs on her legs helped, yes, Delilah had told them, but movement was the best thing for blood flow. She tested for feeling with what looked like a large, blunt needle. Santana smiled every time Brittany said "ow" when Delilah would poke her arms.

With the initial tests, Delilah bent Brittany's arm at the elbow and tried to get her to hold it. Santana saw the determination in Brittany's eyes as she tried her best to keep her elbow bent. When her arm dropped, determination was replaced with disappointment. She made Santana lift her arm every hour to try again and again but never with a different result.

"One step at a time," Santana said, both to Brittany and herself.

"I want to dance."

"I know, babe. I know."

Despite the disappointment, Brittany didn't give up. It only took three days for Brittany to squeeze Santana's hand to the point that it hurt a little. Her arm strength seemed to come back quickly, she met milestones day after day: moving her wrists, bending her elbows, holding up against pressure.

Ten days after the fall, John left to go back to Lima and his job for a few weeks while Anna stayed in New York. Brittany practically forced Santana to go back to their apartment at night, threatening to have the gnome in their hall closet start re-arranging the refrigerator (one of Santana's biggest pet peeves). Santana obliged but only because her back wasn't going to take much of that couch any longer and there were bills to be paid.

After two weeks, Dr. Harris concluded that Brittany was stable enough to be moved to the long-term care ward of the hospital. While it meant getting out of the ICU, Santana wasn't too thrilled about the "long-term" part of his idea. The Latina had been looking in to home health care Columbus, the closest large city to Lima, knowing that Brittany would be more comfortable closer to family. Staying at the hospital and even in New York "long term" wasn't part of her plan anymore.

After Brittany was settled into her new room, Santana pulled Anna and Dr. Harris into the hallway while Delilah started Brittany's stretches.

"I want to take her home," Santana said. "To Ohio. I've been researching-"

"Santana, she can't be moved that far," Dr. Harris cut her off. "It will be two months at least before I'm comfortable with transferring her anywhere that isn't in this building. Roads are bumpy, there would be turbulence in the air if we flew her and it could seriously compromise all of the work we've done."

Santana growled. "You don't understand," she pleaded. "I only have one more week of paid leave. I can't leave her but I can't quit my job if we're living here."

"I won't sign off on it, Ms. Lopez. No doctor in their right mind would agree to move her that far this soon. I'm sorry."

All Santana could do was nod. There was no alternative plan in her mind. All she had been focusing on was getting Brittany back to Ohio. As Dr. Harris walked away Santana's shoulders dropped, her hope for getting Brittany out of there practically shattered.

"With her salary I can maybe get a smaller place for a while," Santana sighed. "I'll get my two weeks notice-"

"Honey, you can't quit your job," Anna said. "You need to go back to work. You'll drive yourself crazy if you keep staying here."

Santana snapped her head back up, almost angry at Brittany's mother for even thinking of suggesting that she not be at the hospital. Crossing her arms over her chest, the Latina went into defense mode. She was staying with Brittany.

"You're here just as much as I am."

"John is coming back next week and I'll be going back to Lima. Brittany will understand that you have to work."

"It's up to her," she finally said. "Whatever Brittany wants."

Brittany, of course, insisted that Santana go back to work. Despite almost an hour of arguing and trying to prove to the blonde that Santana could survive on one salary if only she downsized to a smaller apartment and stopped eating, there was no changing Brittany's mind.

"Go to work, San," she said, squeezing her girlfriend's hand. "You smell like the hospital. I like it better when you smell like money."

It was always hard to argue with Brittany's logic. Working in the top offices of a bank had its perks and one of them was that, as Brittany had noticed right after Santana took the job, was that the building always smelled like fresh stacks of money. And that, for some reason, was one of Brittany's most favorite smells. That and shoe polish.

Santana's first day back was a Wednesday. It took Anna and a nurse to practically drag her out of the hospital that morning to walk across the street. She was back at lunch and immediately after five o'clock, despite having hours of catching up to do sitting on her desk.


	3. Chapter 3

**-Chapter 3-**

Time seemed to fly after Santana went back to work. Another week after the accident and Brittany was flexing her elbows with no problems and her grip made Santana wince a little bit at its strength. Delilah started showing Santana and John how to do Brittany's leg stretches and upper body exercises to practice in between her visits.

Exactly four weeks after the accident, Dr. Harris consented to removing the metal brace and brackets keeping Brittany's shoulders immobilized. All that was left was the neck brace which would stay in place for another few weeks. They began moving Brittany's shoulders and, while sore, she gritted her teeth and worked through it. Santana was proud of her girl, exceeding everyone's expectations with every single movement. However, she saw the disappointment in Brittany's eyes. She still wasn't having any feeling in either of her legs and, despite the progress of her upper body, it was her legs she wanted to work.

It was a Saturday the day that Delilah brought in the most complex looking wheelchair Santana had ever seen. There were buttons and a joystick and a headrest and it was heavily padded. It looked like someone would need an engineering degree to figure it out.

"It's only temporary," Delilah said. "Once she gets her arms strengthened up and her neck healed we can move her to a regular one."

"I won't need it," Brittany mumbled. "I'll dance out of here."

"Of course you will, babe," Santana said with a smile. She leaned over and kissed Brittany's forehead, thankful that she no longer had to navigate through a maze of metal bars to do so.

It took Brittany a little bit to get adjusted to the new chair - the joystick was extremely sensitive. She ran into things a lot and almost took Santana out a few times when she'd accidentally veer to the left or right when they were navigating through the hallways. It was worth it, though, Santana thought. At least she had something other than the ceiling to look at. Progress was progress and Santana was just as determined as her girlfriend to get her out of that hospital. However, as they say, what goes up must come down.

Brittany's disappointment started turning into frustration when, after two months, she still wasn't feeling her legs or doing pirouettes. Dr. Harris, Delilah, Santana, and Brittany's parents all tried explaining that it was going to take a lot more time. They had just taken her out of the neck brace and had started therapy to re-strengthen her neck muscles and get her used to the new stiffness of having the rods and titanium plates in place. She would eventually learn to work with the limited mobility, Dr. Harris assured her. Brittany, however, didn't care. She wanted to get up and walk around which wasn't going to happen anytime soon from what Santana could tell.

Faced with the news that she wasn't going to be dancing anytime soon, Brittany gave up. Santana came in from work on a Thursday evening to find Delilah in Brittany's room despite her normal time being just after lunch.

"Brittany, if you don't keep exercising you will lose everything we've already accomplished," Delilah pleaded. "Please, you need to do this."

"Get out."

"Hey," Santana sighed, stepping into the room and sitting on the edge of Brittany's bed. "What's going on?"

"I want to go home. I'm done."

"I don't think you're done, babe."

"Take me home, San," Brittany begged. "Please don't make me stay here anymore." Her bright blue eyes glimmered with tears and despite Santana really, really wanting to...she knew what was best for Brittany right then.

"I can't, B. You need to stay here."

"I'm not doing anything else," Brittany stated. She crossed her arms over her chest and, with a wince, turned her head away from both Santana and Delilah.

It shattered Santana's heart to see Brittany like this but she figured the blonde would eventually see her way. Unfortunately, she didn't. Five days went by with Brittany refusing to do therapy and barely acknowledging Santana's presence. She spoke only to her parents on the phone (they had both returned to Lima for the time being, knowing Brittany was in good hands) and mumbled words to hospital staff. After the five days she reluctantly resumed therapy after Santana made a remark that the blonde had been unable to finish feeding herself thanks to not exercising.

Even seeing the progress herself, Brittany became more and more irritable with every day. She wasn't sure whether she meant to or not but Santana started skipping mornings with Brittany, taking shorter lunches, and working later. She was only ever met with scowls from her girlfriend anymore and it wasn't something she wanted to deal with. Trying to have conversation was impossible and so all she could do was sit in the recliner and stare at the TV and get whatever Brittany needed even though all Santana got in return was a frustrated growl. But she was still there and she was determined not to give up. She couldn't. 

XXXXXXXXXX

"Hey babe," Santana said, strolling into Brittany's room around six that evening. She had been trying to get better about spending more time at the hospital but it was almost exhausting being met with anger every time she stepped into the room. But Santana hid her frustrations for Brittany. She smiled her fake optimistic smile and kissed her girlfriend on the head before dropping to the recliner. When Brittany's eyes connected with hers there was a change in them. The bright blue had dulled and a tingle told Santana that tonight wasn't going to be good.

"Had to work late again?" Brittany's growled, anger very apparent as she bared her teeth.

"Yeah, we got a really big account. I told you about it yesterday, remember?"

"Of course," the blonde snorted. "You get to go to work and I get to stay here."

Santana sighed. She was exhausted and not in the mood to deal with anything unpleasant but she took a deep breath and sat up in her chair to try and reason with her girlfriend.

"Please Brittany…can we please not do this today? I'm really tired."

"You don't want to deal with me then leave. You think I don't notice, Santana? You think I haven't noticed how you have to go in early and stay late almost every single day? If you're going to leave me just do it, okay?"

"I'm not leaving you," Santana assured her. "I'm not."

Brittany growled again and tried to shift to turn herself onto her side, Santana instinctively stood and reached out to try and help her, just as she'd been shown.

"Get away from me!" Brittany hissed. "I'll do it myself! I don't need you, I don't want you. Just get away."

Santana stepped back, slightly shocked at Brittany's reaction. She watched, her arms aching to help as Brittany continued struggling to push herself over but finally lost the battle to exhaustion and gave up. She stared at the ceiling, tears cascading down her cheeks. Santana felt her eyes begin to brim with tears, petrified of what was about to happen next.

"Go home, Santana," she whispered. "I don't want you here anymore and you don't want to be here. Just go."

"B," Santana choked, "I do want to be here but...you just make it so hard sometimes!" The tears were running and all of Santana's frustration began bubbling up and she couldn't help but spill her heart out. "You gave up and you're bitter and angry and it's not _you_. That's not the girl I fell in love with. You don't give up...you just don't!"

"It is me," Brittany mumbled. "You don't know me anymore."

"I know that the Brittany I knew in high school would never have given up like this and she would have fought harder than this. You're not her. You're not that girl."

"You're right!" Brittany half-yelled, snapping her head to meet Santana's gaze and narrowing her eyes. "I'm not her anymore. I'm not… You don't know what this is like, San! You don't know…" Brittany choked back a sob. "You don't know what it's like to lose _everything_," she finally whispered.

"You didn't lose everything, B. I'm still here...You're choosing to give up is what's happening."

"I didn't choose this!"

"You're choosing to give up, B!"

"I can't dance! I'm no good if I can't dance! You're smart; you went to college, I didn't! What good am I on stage if I can't walk, Santana? If this happened to you, you would still have a job. I won't. I'm screwed."

"You're so much more-"

"I'm going home with my mom and dad when the release me," Brittany cut her off. "Don't come. You don't want me anymore so just stay here."

"B I don't want to break up with you."

"Yes you do. You know that if you don't have to take care of me that your life will be easier."

"Brittany…"

Brittany turned to look at Santana and she shook her head. "It's over. Pack up the rest of my stuff and my dad will get it when I go."

"So this is it? You're really doing this? After what, like, fifteen years you're just going to let it all go?"

Brittany nodded. "Please go."

Santana swallowed the lump in her throat and wiped away her tears with the sleeve of her shirt. This couldn't be it. This wasn't it. She didn't work that hard to let it all go…but Brittany wanted it and Brittany always got what she wanted. The Latina took a few steps forward and leaned over to press a kiss to the top of Brittany's head.

"Call me," Santana managed to choke out, whispering against Brittany's hair. "Call me if you need anything."

Without a look back, Santana quietly left the room and hurried out of the hospital to her car. Once in it she held on until she got home and then once in the safety of her and Brittany's apartment, she let go. She curled up in _their_ bed and clutched onto Brittany's pillow and she sobbed into it until she made herself sick into the trashcan by the side of the bed. She finally drifted off into a restless sleep hours later and was awoken by her alarm precisely at six in the morning. She called into work and spent the rest of the day in bed, still holding onto Brittany's pillow. 

XXXXXXXXXX

A week went by and Santana heard nothing from Brittany. She called the hospital every evening when she got home from work and received the same news every night, that Brittany was making progress little by little. She had gone up a few points in her strength tests, they were working on rolling over, and she'd felt tingling in her legs which was an extremely good sign. It made Santana smile a little, yet her heart sank that she wasn't there to share in the milestones. A few times she would walk into the hospital and make it as far as stepping off the elevator on Brittany's floor before the knot in her stomach and the lump in her throat at the thought of another rejection would force her to turn away.

Even throwing herself into her work, the days seemed to drag by. Every time she looked at a clock or calendar, she sighed. She tried staying at the office later to avoid going home to an empty apartment; a co-worker suggested getting a cat to keep her company. It would've been a good idea if Santana actually liked cats. Nearing the end of the second week without Brittany, she made her nightly phone call to the nurse's station but with a different result than she would've liked.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Lopez, but one of the nurses mentioned to Brittany the phone calls...she's asked us to stop giving you information. I'm so sorry...there's nothing I can do."

Santana didn't even bother saying goodbye. It was official. Brittany had completely shut her out. But the Lopez' didn't give up. She would get her information and she knew she had to try one more option. With trembling fingers, Santana picked up her phone and scrolled through her contact list searching for a number.

"Hello?"

"Anna," Santana choked. "It's Santana."

There was a sigh on the other end of the line before Anna responded. "Hey sweetie, how are you?"

"I've been better. How's B?"

"I'm on my way back up from the cafeteria to see her right now. She told us what happened. I'm so sorry, honey. I've tried to talk to her but she won't listen. I've been putting off calling you to have John come pick up her things. She's doing well, she still has tingling in her legs and the doctor says it's a good sign."

"Good," Santana whispered. "I didn't pack any of her things…I just…I can't."

"You're going to need to," Anna said. "They're transferring her to the hospital in Lima while we finish getting the house renovated. We're leaving in two weeks."

Santana felt the tears start to spill over and her chest tighten. There was more than just a void in her heart – it felt like the entire thing was being pulled from her chest.

"C-call me when you're ready to get her things."

Santana didn't wait for a response before she hung up the phone and clutched on to Brittany's pillow. Her eyes surveyed the room at all she had to pack. It occurred to her only then that she had barely moved a thing since the accident. Brittany's light gray sweatjacket was hanging over her open closet door, as it had been. There was a headband on the small knob on the pull-door and a pair of yellow socks that never made it to the wash sticking out of a pair of shoes. The blonde's iPod was still in the docking station on her nightstand. Temptation overwhelmed Santana and she picked up the music player, pressed the center button, and promptly burst into a fresh round of tears.

_Songbird  
>Santana<em>

She had recorded it for Brittany when she finally got tired of having to sing it every night in order for the blonde to consent to going to bed. Brittany only listened when she had trouble sleeping and the night before she had complained of being sore from the old harness and excited that she was getting a new one. The combination had made it almost impossible for her to settle down. Santana was the one who had suggested it. By morning, she had forgotten it. Now, though. Now it was all coming back. The final minutes before Santana left for work that morning and how she had looked down and smiled at a sleeping Brittany whose bare back moved up and down rhythmically as she slept soundly. Santana had leaned down and pressed a kiss to Brittany's temple and whispered an, "I love you" bringing a small smile to her girlfriend's lips and a mumbled, "I love you, too, San". Santana told her to have a great show, as she always did; Brittany told Santana to have a good day with all the money, as she always did. They shared one last kiss goodbye before Santana walked out of the apartment.

Santana wished then that she'd gone back for one more kiss. Watched Brittany perform one more time. Met her back stage with one more bouquet of roses. She wished she could've been there to convince Brittany to come right home instead of testing the new harness.

But it didn't happen. None of it did and none of it ever would, the way things were going. And before she could have any more regrets, Santana's phone rang, forcing her to come back to the real world instead of the fantasies in her head.

"Hello?" she answered, not even bothering to look at the screen.

"Santana...I-It's"

"Q?" Santana sat upright on her bed, the almost-forgotten voice of her best friend coming through her phone. Her life had been about Brittany that she'd literally forgotten the world had existed. She used to talk to Quinn a few times a month at least. Now...she wasn't sure how long it had been. Not since before...

"Why didn't you call me?" Quinn growled. "God, Santana, do you know what it's like to find this out from your fathers-in-law?"

"So you two are still together?" Santana quipped, a tiny smile on her lips.

"Cut the shit, Santana," Quinn snapped. "You send each of our kids savings bonds for Christmas and birthdays. And you let them have espresso last time we were in New York. Now why in the hell haven't I gotten a phone call?"

"I'm sorry," Santana mumbled. "You...it's just been really hard. How did Berry's dads find out?"

"Leroy's company got contracted to renovate Britt's parents' house. John told him what happened...that Brittany's leaving you. Are you okay?"

"No."

"Is there anything we can do?"

"I don't know," Santana whispered. "I'm so fucking lost right now, Q. I've never been without her. And before you ask, I've tried everything. You know she always get what she wants."

"You know if there's anything we can do all you have to do is ask."

"Unless you know someone with an apartment with cheap rent in a neighborhood where I won't get mugged every night-"

"Say no more!" Rachel's voice blared through the phone. "You can stay at our place. Quinn and I won't be traveling for a while meaning we need to find a caretaker for the apartment while we find a larger space due to...well, due to the expansion of our family."

"Are you freaking serious? More kids? Aren't you on like number ten or something?"

"This will be five and six, thank you very much," Rachel replied. "The doctor informed us yesterday that I'm carrying twins and due exactly six months from today."

"Your monsters are going to make me go broke." With a grin on her face that she would never, ever admit to anyone, Santana dug around in her nightstand to find her iPad. She searched for Rachel and Quinn and found their family page, the four existing kids and their birthdays posted, and added two more entries. "One of them has a birthday coming up, right?"

"Yes, Santana," Rachel sighed. "I would think that since Gabriela was given your middle name as her first, and that since you're her godmother, that you'd remember her birthday...or at the very least, her name."

"I was kidding. I'll put a card in the mail soon, okay? Cut me some slack, it's been rough."

"I apologize for the events of the past few months. But right now we should discuss you moving into the apartment."

Santana hashed out the details with Rachel over the next hour or so and, although she would never admit it, she was grateful to Rachel not only for the apartment but for getting her mind mind off of the weight still crushing her chest. She talked to all of Rachel and Quinn's kids and tried best to mask the tears when they all told her how much they loved and missed her and made her promise to take care of their stuffed animals.

"Thank you guys," Santana said once the pair was given back the phone. "I mean it."

"Despite your constant poking fun at me," Rachel said, "you know that Quinn and I consider you and Br-...we consider you family."

"Let us know if you need anything else, alright S?"

"Yeah, I will."


	4. Chapter 4

**-Chapter 4-**

Over the next week Santana started packing up Brittany's things into boxes to be taken to Ohio and her own furniture to be put into storage, seeing as how Rachel and Quinn's apartment was fully furnished. Luckily for Santana's budget, the pair owned the apartment and so all that would need to be paid would be utilities. Moving day was quite possibly the most difficult day of Santana's life. She had thought the space she was now packing up would be hers and Brittany's for a long, long time. Instead, John was packing boxes into a small trailer attached to his SUV and movers were putting Santana's into another truck to be taken to storage and then to Quinn and Rachel's.

"They'll be taking her in a hospital van since the one we bought hasn't been fitted yet," John said when he shut the back of the SUV. "I know you heard about who's doing the work on the house. I'm sorry, sweetie, I thought you would've told them."

Santana only shrugged. "She's been my whole world since the fall. I haven't really thought about anything else."

"I know," John said with a nod. "I've already spoken with doctors in Lima and the therapists at the hospital there have talked with Delilah and all the doctors here. Things should run smoothly when we leave."

"When are you leaving?" Santana asked quietly.

"I'll be leaving tomorrow afternoon. Brittany and Anna should be leaving in four days."

Santana shook her head. It would be exactly four months to the day.

The next day passed slowly for Santana as she unpacked the remainder of her things in the master bedroom and bathroom. She talked to Rachel and Quinn and was again educated on the rules and regulations of the apartment (no smoking, no parties, no pets unless it lives in a cage, no butchering live animals, no voodoo rituals...) and the pair tried to cheer her up and get her mind away.

"If you have some time off soon you should come for a visit," Rachel suggested. "I believe the nice California weather could do you a world of good."

"I don't have any vacation time left," Santana sighed. "I used all of it. Sick time, too."

"That's very unfortunate. However, the offer is still open."

Through unpacking everything and coming home to an empty apartment that wasn't her own, Santana's thoughts were glued on Brittany and the fact that it could be months before she saw the blonde again. Hell, it could be _years_ if Brittany got her way. She talked to Rachel and Quinn a few more times and listened to the kids talk about what they did all day. It was their way of distracting her and trying to cheer her up which did work for a while. After an hour or so she would go back to thinking about Brittany.

Three days later and all Santana could do was stare at the calendar. Twenty-four hours and Santana would be completely alone in the largest city in the country. All of their mutual friends had dissolved away. They weren't really good friends anyway, just people that they would go out drinking with on occasion and exchange Christmas cards. There weren't many people in her office that Santana conversed with beyond work matters or office parties. She was alone. But she was a Lopez and Lopez' didn't give up that easily.

Santana grabbed the apartment keys, her purse, and her jacket, a woman on a mission. She practically jumped out of the cab at the hospital entrance and stormed through the hallways, ignoring the irritated yells of people she knocked into or over. Brittany's laughter echoed down the hallway, leading Santana to her destination. She didn't bother asking politely if she could come in or knocking on the door frame. No. She marched right in. Anna and John were in chairs on either side of the bed and both immediately stood when Santana cleared her throat.

The sight of Brittany sitting up in bed and the utter shock and anger on the blonde's face after having not seen Santana in a month was almost enough to make Santana forget why she'd gone there in the first place. She thought briefly that Brittany might leap out of bed and try to tackle her out of anger and decided that probably wouldn't be a bad thing and she'd deal with it. Brittany just crossed her arms over her chest and growled.

"What do you want, Santana?"

"I want to come home with you."

"I can't stop you from going back to Lima," Brittany said matter-of-factly. "You do what you want."

"I want you, that's what I want."

"No."

"Honey…" John sighed

"Dad, this is between me and Santana."

"Brittany, I want to be with you, don't you get it?"

Brittany shook her head. "No you don't."

"I love you, damn it!"

"You feel sorry for me. That's how it's always been."

"This isn't about you anymore, Brittany! This is about _me_! Me and how _I_ feel and the fact that I love you and I want nothing more than to be by your side when you take those first steps and you get back on stage! That is what this is about!"

"What part of 'it's over' didn't you understand, Santana?" Brittany shrieked. "I don't love you! I don't love you and I don't want you around me! You didn't want to be around me and so I let you go and you did! You left. Now get out!"

"It's not over, Britt." Santana said. "It won't ever be over."

Before Brittany could respond, Santana turned and walked out of the room, head held high. She didn't stop until she heard Brittany begin screaming.

"Mom, where are you going? Don't talk to her! Mom!"

Santana turned only to be met with a hug by Anna. She held on to the woman tight and attempted not to cry into her shoulder...she lost and the tears began to fall.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie," Anna whispered. "We've both tried."

"Mom!" Brittany yelled again.

Anna growled and pulled away, pointing a finger at Santana. "Stay right here, Santana."

Santana nodded and watched as Anna walked back into Brittany's room. The Latina peeked in and heard Anna growl.

"What do you want, Brittany?"

"Stop talking to her!"

"Since when are you allowed to tell me who I can have a conversation with?"

"She's mean! Don't talk to her!" Brittany spat.

"Brittany, you're an adult; stop acting like a child. Now, I am going to go back out there and talk with Santana and you are going to get over it, do you understand me?"

Silence rang through the room. Santana stood in the hall, waiting as she had been instructed, now with her eyes wide and jaw dropped. Anna was the single most patient and tolerant woman she'd ever known and she'd never heard her talk to anyone like that. Ever. Brittany's mother stepped back out into the hallway and put a hand on Santana's shoulder, glanced toward the room, and then back to Santana.

"Santana," Anna said loudly enough that the brunette knew she meant for Brittany to hear this, "I want to let you know that anytime you're in Lima you are more than welcome to come by for a visit. John and I will be happy to have you."

"Thank you," Santana said quietly. She hugged her once more before she slowly made her way out of the hospital and to a bench outside to wait for a cab. 

XXXXXXXXXX

Santana kept herself flooded with work and conversation with Quinn and Rachel to fill her time. She went out for drinks with co-workers to try and feel a little less alone. Anna would e-mail her updates when she asked. Another month went by and Brittany was at 98% of her original upper body strength with physical therapy every day and had just been put into a regular wheelchair. It was bright pink. She was assisting in giving dance instructions as something to do and she had regained quite a bit of feeling in her legs and some movement but was still unable to stand.

Brittany's progress should've been exciting to Santana but the brunette couldn't be enthusiastic. She wanted to be there, no matter how much Brittany didn't want her there. She wanted to be in Lima with Brittany helping her with whatever she needed. A month and a week after Brittany left, Santana started packing and turned in her request for transfer to Lima. She had heard from John that the manager of the Chase Bank branch had retired and they were looking for a new one. She got the job almost immediately.

Although her salary wasn't near what it had been in New York but it would more than cover her cost of living in a rather nice duplex in Lima. She moved in two weeks before Christmas. John was able to get out of the house to help Santana get settled even though she'd hired movers.

"Come have dinner with us on New Year's Eve," he offered. "I insist."

Santana swallowed hard and nodded. "I'm going to LA for a few days this week to see Quinn and Rachel. I got some time off for the transfer."

"Be sure to say hello for us, will you?"

"Definitely." 

XXXXXXXXXX

The first night in Los Angeles, Santana spent with Quinn in a dive bar drinking their weight in hard liquor.

"What you need is to get really, really drunk," Quinn had said, pulling Santana out of the house only moments after she'd dropped her suitcases and said hello to the Fabray-Berry children. "I mean it, we're getting completely trashed."

"Whatever you say, Fabray."

Quinn had been right. They were getting completely trashed. The pair sat at the bar with only a few other bar patrons with numerous glasses in front of each of them and a very happy bartender behind the counter keeping track of their tab.

"You're a fucking genius, Q," Santana said. "You know, I just...this is totally what I needed. Drunk!"

"See? Now just remember...know this forever and it'll all be good."

"Fuck I think we...whole bottle of stuff is gone!"

"I feel sorry for you two in the morning," the bartender said. "Time to pay?"

"Hey, hey, hey," Quinn slurred. "Do you know who I am? _I_ am Rachel Berry's wife and a very awesome real estate agent! I sold Brangelina their last house, you know? So can I get a li'l discount?"

"Nope. There's your bill."

"Well fuck you, too!"

"I got it," Santana said. "Don't...no worries."

"No, no. Mariah Carey's beach house is paying for this one."

Rachel had already set the pair up with a hotel room for the night, citing that she didn't want the two of them drunk around the children. Quinn called the driver they had on standby to get them to said hotel room where the pair both fell into the separated beds and into a fit of laughter. It eventually turned into tears for Santana and she began sobbing, the hot tears rolling stinging her skin.

"Why doesn't she love me, Q?"

"She totally _-hic-_ does. She's just pissed or whatever."

"No...no she hates me. She doesn't want me. How the hell do you get to be happy and I get shit?"

Santana was met with a deep snore. She would've cared but sleep overcame her.

After the hangover subsided, Quinn and Santana made their way back to the Fabray-Berry household where they were met with four small bodies, two girls and two boys, colliding into their legs and welcoming them home. Santana immediately picked up Gabriela, getting a faceful of dark brown hair, and held her close, the six-year-old clinging to her godmother.

"Are you gonna be happy now, Aunt Tana?"

"I'll try just for you, okay?"

"Aunt Tana?"

Santana looked down to see Susan, the three-year-old blonde with Quinn's eyes tugging at her shirt. "Yeah, Suzie Q?"

"Is Rocky okay?"

Santana knelt down and let Gabriela go. She smiled at the blonde curls and Susan's bright eyes as the young girl inquired about her favorite stuffed bear she kept in New York.

"He's just fine. He said to tell you he loves you."

"Kay!"

Ethaniel and Adrian, the five-year-old twins (brunette and blonde, respectively), took that opportunity to tackle Santana to the ground and proceeded to pin her there.

"Didja bring us anything?" Ethaniel asked, smiling to show off his missing two front teeth.

"Looks like you need new teeth."

"Adrian knocked 'em out. We was playin' ninjas an' he kicked me in the face. It was _so cool_!"

"There was lotsa blood," Adrian said. "Mama tooked him to the hopsickle."

"Sweet," Santana said with a smile. "Give me a minute and I'll get you guys your presents, okay?" Ethaniel and Adrian both shrieked with delight and took off to the living room, their sisters following.

"Santana!" Rachel shrieked. "You need to stop spoiling them."

"It's my job, Waddles."

Rachel only scoffed.

Much to Rachel and Quinn's frustration, it took them an extra hour to get the kids to bed no thanks to Santana's antagonizing. She had given them their yearly Christmas savings bonds before dinner along with giant Pixie Stix for each kid which she quickly opened before any protests were made.

"How are you holding up?" Rachel asked, handing Santana a cup of coffee.

The trio was in the living room, the mess of the house being forgotten for the night as they caught up and Santana was sure that Rachel would probably outline a new life plan for her.

"Alright, I guess. I start at the bank right after I go back."

"Good," Rachel said with a nod. "Work will be good for you."

"Yeah. You guys better love me, I traded my Christmas bonus to get more vacation days."

Quinn reached over and put a hand on Santana's knee. "We're really glad you're here."

"Have you thought any more about New Year's Eve?"

"All the time," Santana sighed. "I can't say no to John and Anna but I know she'll be pissed off."

"They want you there," Rachel said. "Brittany will come around. She'll have to."

"I know you, Santana. I know you won't give this up."

Santana nodded and took another sip of her coffee before leaning over to settle her head on Quinn's shoulder.

"I just want her to love me."

It was reminiscent of nationals their junior year only now it was Santana being comforted. She probably wouldn't go insane in the coming months, she'd have to suck it up and move on if Brittany repeatedly rejected her. They had been through so much together, though. Brittany had been Santana's life since they were kids and she sure as hell wasn't going to give up. She loved Brittany more than anyone or anything. She would even love to have a family with the blonde. Rachel and Quinn proved that it wasn't too late.

The vacation did as Rachel said it would, a world of good for Santana. She felt refreshed and relaxed as she flew back to Lima that weekend. She forgot how much she love seeing her god-children and her best friend...and yes, even Rachel. The other brunette made an amazing cup of coffee and provided a little comic relief for Santana when she got to make jabs at Rachel's height or the way she was already beginning to waddle when she walked.

Work at the bank went smoothly. Santana's employees were ecstatic to have a new manager, none of them had cared for the old one. It took a while to get used to working in a small branch office rather than the corporate office in New York but there was much less stress and her work hours were actually normal. The employees constantly invited her out with them and she went a few times. The older woman that worked the front desk brought Santana a basket of basic food items and other household necessities.

It actually felt good for her to be back in Lima, despite how much Santana hated it in high school. She didn't know if she could stay there forever, but it felt good to be there at the time. If she had it her way, she and Brittany would be heading back to New York in the future.

Santana spent Christmas with her family and she agreed to house-sit for Rachel's dads while they flew to California to spend the holiday and new year with the Fabray-Berrys. Anna still updated her with how Brittany was doing to avoid any surprises for New Year's Eve. The blonde was getting stronger every day, her fine motor skills had returned to near normalcy with the occasional slip-up.

New Year's Eve got to Santana more quickly than she would've liked. But she still braved the cold to drive to the Pierce house and honor John and Anna's invitation to dinner. The house was still lit up with Christmas lights; Brittany had always loved them.

It was with a shaking hand that Santana pressed the doorbell to the Pierce house. John peeked out the window and smiled at her before unlocking and opening the door to let her in. The house was familiar and inviting as it always had been to Santana. The aroma of herbs and spices met her as she stepped inside, memories flooded her from days of innocence where she and Brittany would come running into the house after having a snowball fight on a snowday or for a glass of lemonade after playing in the sprinkler all afternoon.

"Good to see you, Santana," John said with a smile. "You look very well."

"Thanks," Santana said.

"Dad!" Santana heard the call from the kitchen. "Who was at the door?"

"Go on," John whispered.

Santana nodded, her heels clicked on the hardwood floor as she made her way to the kitchen. Brittany was at a lowered counter tearing up lettuce and tossing it into a bowl. She looked healthy and strong, Santana's breath caught in her throat at the rosiness on Brittany's cheeks and her smile that always lit up a room. But one look at the doorframe where Santana stood, the smile dropped and Brittany's face paled.

"Dad," Brittany snapped. "Why-"

"Santana is our guest," John said firmly. "And as our guest she is to be treated with respect and civility."

"You still enjoy chicken Alfredo, don't you Santana?" Anna asked. "It used to be your favorite of my cooking, I remember."

Santana grinned. "Of course."

Despite the fact that Anna had gone out of her way to prepare Santana's favorite, the Latina was still quiet and dinner was still awkward. Brittany refused to speak except to ask her parents to pass her things.

"How's work, Santana?" John finally asked.

"It's great, thank you."

Anna's Chicken Alfredo was sublime, as always. Santana practically licked her plate clean. Once finished she helped gather the plates and followed Brittany into the kitchen. The blonde positioned herself at the lowered sink and locked her wheels. She said nothing as Santana placed the plates in the sink. Santana figured it was up to her.

"Hi."

"Why are you here, Santana?"

"Your dad invited me for dinner."

"Well you had dinner. You can leave now."

Santana sighed. She was beyond frustrated. "You know, I'm pretty sure you're the one that broke up with me. If anyone has a right to be pissed off here, I do."

"You were going to leave me."

"No I wasn't!" Santana shrieked. "I was mad at you because you weren't trying! You wanted to give up and it made me mad, Britt! I never had any intention of breaking up with you!"

"Then why did you leave! Why didn't you fight to stay?"

Brittany rolled out from behind the counter and directly in front of Santana, looking up at her with red-rimmed eyes and tears threatening to spill over. Feeling awkward hovering over the blonde, Santana quickly retrieved a kitchen chair and sat, dark eyes now level with bright blue.

"Because you're Brittany," Santana said softly. "You get everything you want. You didn't want me, you said it. I knew I wouldn't win."

Brittany was silent. Her lips twitched and she clenched her jaw.

"If you still don't want me then I'll leave."

Brittany was still silent and her gaze fell to her lap and that was when Santana knew she had lost the battle. She stood and prepared herself to walk away, her heart shattering into a thousand pieces when Brittany didn't ask her to come back. Santana was completely defeated. She stopped before stepping into the living room and with a deep breath she gave her last words.

"I love you, Brittany. I never gave up on you. I never gave up on us."


	5. Chapter 5

**-Chapter 5-**

_"I love you, Brittany. I never gave up on you. I never gave up on us."_

Santana said her goodbyes to Anna and John quietly and thanked them for dinner. She left as quickly as possible, before any questions could be asked. The thought of having to explain that she had just lost her entire world made her stomach churn. The winter cold nipped at her fingertips as Santana fumbled with her keys, trying to get the remote to unlock her car. Just as she finally heard it unlock and she popped the door open, it was slammed shut just as quickly. Santana jumped back, startled, and looked down to see Brittany, blue eyes pleading.

"We always watch the ball drop together," Brittany said. "Please come back."

It took her a little off guard but Santana nodded and forced a little smile. "Okay," she whispered.

Santana locked her car and followed Brittany back up the ramp into the house; John and Anna both smiled as the pair came through the door. Without a word, the older couple exited the living room to the kitchen leaving Santana and Brittany in the living room. Santana took a seat on the couch and, much to her surprise, Brittany parked her chair and hoisted herself onto the couch with ease.

"Wow...that's impressive."

Brittany shrugged. "I want to walk. Gotta start somewhere."

"Your mom said it's possible. I know if you want to, you will." Santana cautiously reached over and placed her hand on Brittany's knee. The blonde smiled.

"I can feel it."

"Awesome."

"Can you do something for me?" Brittany whispered, dropping her head, picking her fingernails.

"I can try."

"I was like, really angry...before. I couldn't figure out why anyone would want me since I was broken. Then you started not spending time with me...Like we never got married, you know? I thought it was because you were gonna leave me if something bad ever happened. I know I was wrong but it just all made sense in my head and I'm really, really sorry. Can you forgive me?"

Santana took a deep breath and swallowed hard. It was everything she had wanted for the last two months. Brittany was in front of her, asking her to come back. Asking for things to be the way they were again. But something inside of Santana made her actually stop and think about it for a minute. Who was to say that Brittany wouldn't pull this again if she got frustrated? Who was to say that Santana herself wouldn't get angry with the situation again? Her hesitation apparently was cause for concern because Brittany's eyes went wide and she bit down on her lower lip.

"You don't have to answer now," Brittany said quickly. "Answer me in a week. I want you to come to the doctor with me and you can answer me then, okay?"

Santana nodded.

The pair watched the ball drop in Times Square on TV but, for the first time since before high school, they didn't kiss on the lips. Brittany instead leaned over and pecked Santana's cheek. 

XXXXXXXXXX

"She wants me to go to the doctor with her," Santana said. It was her now almost daily phone call to Los Angeles, keeping Quinn and Rachel updated on everything. She was enjoying a glass of Merlot before bed, curled up with her Snuggie on the couch with Food Network on in the background.

"What kind of doctor?" Rachel asked.

"I don't know, a freakin' doctor."

"Well there are several kinds of doctors that Brittany could be seeing. She could be seeing a physical therapist, orthopedic doctor, psychiatrist, general physician, neurologist..."

"Why would she see a shrink?"

"Traumatic injuries tend to leave people emotionally damaged," Rachel stated matter-of-factly. "When I had laryngitis in high school it nearly sent me into a tailspin not being able to perform and hear the applause of an audience. It was quite traumatic. I still have nightmares."

"I think you should go back to seeing one. You're crazy, Berry."

"What Rachel is trying to say," Quinn cut in, "is that it probably wasn't the actual Brittany that left you. I mean, look what happened to me in high school. I took a while to figure out who I was again senior year. Britt's probably doing the same. It all worked out in the end for me and it'll all work out for you guys, too."

"She said she was worried that we never got married."

"I've often wondered about that particular situation," Rachel said. "May I ask why? I mean, surely the financial aspect of it would've enticed you to it."

"Never thought about it. We were doing fine and we were able to be listed as emergency contacts and stuff."

"Do you want to marry her?"

"I don't know. I mean...I always kind of considered us married. I told you, never thought about it."

"I would highly suggest thinking about it. Not out of a sense of obligation, of course, but because you want to. I assure you, Brittany will be able to tell the difference."

"Whatever you say, Berry."

XXXXXXXXXX

When Brittany shot Santana a text telling her how to get to the doctor, Santana was shocked to find that it wasn't at the hospital. She arrived at a small building, a sign next to the door reading "Lima Psychiatric Practice". Berry had been right. Brittany was seeing a shrink. Santana wondered how long this had been going on - the doctors in New York had suggested it but Brittany had always declined. No one argued with her at the time.

Santana spotted the Pierce's van pull into the parking lot, she immediately darted to pull open the door and help Brittany undo the buckles that were out of her reach. The blonde smiled bright, her blue eyes shimmering with happiness and excitement upon seeing Santana.

"You came," Brittany said happily.

"I told you I would."

"Yeah, but I thought...I thought if you figured out where we were going you'd back out."

"I'm not going anywhere, Britt."

John waited in the van, waving to Santana and Brittany, as the pair headed into the building. Santana was slightly uncomfortable, feeling as though she was invading Brittany's privacy by being there. She'd never been to a psychiatrist, the closest she got was listening to Rachel. Brittany checked herself in, the receptionist seemed to know exactly who she was, telling Santana that Brittany had probably been going there for quite some time. They only waited a few minutes before Brittany was called back, the name on the door of the room read 'Dr. Jessica Rahl'. The woman seemed nice enough when she greeted the pair. Santana took a seat on the center section of the couch, Brittany hoisted herself over to take her place on Santana's left.

"How are we doing today, Brittany?" Jessica asked.

"Good. This is Santana."

"Nice to meet you, Santana."

"Yeah...yeah, you too."

"My parents made me come when I got home," Brittany said. "I didn't want to but they said I had to."

"And it helped?" Santana asked.

"Yeah. I mean...I have to take medicine, too. Like I said, I was really angry."

"Why don't we pick up where we left off last time and talk about pushing Santana away, Brittany? You said she might like to hear about that."

Santana nodded. She listened intently as Brittany poured her heart out talking about feeling broken and helpless, not wanting to burden Santana. They were things that Brittany had yelled at Santana in the hospital but in the more quiet setting, it was easier for Santana to absorb and really understand. She really did get it. It was like when she was going through realizing who she was in high school. She pushed everyone away, thinking she was broken. She was angry but she got through it. When Brittany stopped talking, Santana reached over and took her hand. The Latina didn't know it was possible, but even after being together for so many years and knowing everything there was to know about Brittany, she felt connected to her on a completely different level.

"I'm really proud of you, Britt," Santana said with a smile. It was true. Brittany had come a long way not only physically but emotionally.

"I get why you were angry all the time."

"Hey, I got through it. And you're going to get through this."

"I still love you, San."

"I love you too, B."

"I really want to be with you." Brittany shrugged. "I've always wanted you."

"I want that, too." 

XXXXXXXXXX

It started slow, at Santana's insistence and Jessica's suggestion. Brittany's routine had to be concrete with physical, occupational, and psychiatric therapy. Between that she had her dance lessons and so Santana had to ease back into Brittany's life slowly. The Latina was fine with that. She had her job to consider. They started off only seeing each other outside of doctors appointments – Brittany needed to focus during her therapies and it would be difficult with Santana as a distraction. Santana would come over for dinner and Brittany would sometimes come in and bring her lunch.

"I told you she'd come around," Quinn said. Santana could hear the smirk in her voice.

"It's hard but I get it. She has to focus on therapy. How's Waddles McPreggo?"

"Ready to pop any day now."

"Quinn!" Santana heard Rachel yell in the background. "Quinn, I'm stuck on the couch again! I can't get up!"

"Is there any way you can film that?"

"Be nice, Santana."

Sure enough, it was only a few days later that Santana opened a message on her phone of Rachel and Quinn in the hospital, each with a baby in their arms. It was a little sickeningly sweet that it was Valentine's Day.

_Harmony and Jonah. Mom and babies are doing great, can't wait for you to meet them. I'll call you later xo -Q_

That night, Santana showed up at the Pierce house with a dozen red roses. She took Brittany to dinner and back to her place, their first night spent together since before the accident. The feel of Brittany under her fingertips was reminiscent of a time much simpler but also the promise of a future. It was ecstasy. Out of breath and completely sated, Santana snuggled up to Brittany's side and lay her head on the blonde's shoulder. The light came in just under Brittany's neck just right, showing the shadow of a scar that still remained on the back of her neck. Santana couldn't help but kiss it. The pair lay there in quiet for what seemed like forever – Santana occasionally pressing feather-light kisses to Brittany's neck, making her giggle.

"Quinn and Rachel had their twins today," Santana whispered finally. "Harmony and Jonah."

"Cool."

"Yeah...they're pretty cute. You know, for kids from them."

"I know you love them, San." Santana was silent but a smile tugged at her lips. "Do you think," Brittany continued, her voice quiet and nervous, "do you think maybe...I mean...someday maybe we could have some, too? I can still try to be a good mom, you know? Even if I don't walk."

Santana didn't even have to think about her response. "Baby," she whispered, "you'll be a great mom."

At the beginning of March and on Brittany's demand, Santana took an afternoon off and met her girlfriend at the hospital for physical therapy. It was the first time Santana would see a session since Brittany threw her out. The last session Santana had seen, Brittany was still working her arms. Now, her arms were stronger than they had been before the accident and the blonde was determined to do the same with her legs. Santana followed behind as Brittany rolled through the hallways like she owned the place. The pair came to a halt in a giant room that resembled a gym with low, large, square, padded tables in the middle of the room.

Brittany didn't hesitate hoisting herself onto an empty table. A tall man with red hair strolled into the room holding a file. He smiled when he spotted Brittany and tossed the file on a desk.

"How we doin' today, Britt?" he asked, kneeling and wrapping his hand around the back of Brittany's calf to massage the muscle.

"Good. This is my girlfriend, Santana."

The man smiled up at Santana and switched calves. "I'm Robin, Britt's been talking about you. She's pretty excited for today."

"What's happening today?"

"You'll see," Brittany said.

Santana waited patiently while Robin stretched out Brittany's legs and she only growled once when his hands went a little too far up Brittany's thigh for Santana's liking. She knew it was part of the therapy but this was her girl, damn it. Never mind the fact that Robin had a wedding ring on. Brittany lifted some weights and showed off her guns, earning a chuckle from Santana.

"You exercised this morning like I told you to, right?"

"Yep."

"I think you're ready, then."

"Me too."

It was a little infuriating, like being on the outside of an inside joke for Santana. She was impatient as it was but when it came to therapy and progress, her patience drew even more thin. Robin had handed Brittany a belt and the blonde was busy fitting it around her waist as he pushed her chair to a set of parallel bars and parked the chair at one end of them. Brittany pulled her legs and placed them firmly on the ground and took a deep breath. Santana immediately figured it out.

"Alright," Robin said, getting a grip on the belt. "Grab on."

Santana held her breath as Brittany reached out and gripped onto the parallel bars. With Robin pulling up at the belt and Brittany pulling forward, the blonde was on her feet in a split second and steadying herself on the bars, readjusting her grip. Brittany was standing. Upright.

"How do you feel, Brit?" Robin asked.

"Good."

"How're the legs holding up?"

"I don't know."

"I'm going to loosen my grip a little, okay?"

Santana kept holding her breath. Brittany nodded.

Robin loosened his grip a little and Santana let out a frustrated sigh when Brittany immediately dropped, her knees giving way.

"That's okay, it's only the first time. I want you to try to kick your right leg forward, okay?"

Santana begin screaming internally, willing for Brittany to just take off in a sprint. She knew the blonde could move her legs, Brittany kicked in her sleep and she had been exercising them religiously with giant, colorful rubber bands attached to various stationary objects around the Pierce house. But Santana had no idea that Brittany had come this far.

The focus on Brittany's face rivaled anything Santana had ever seen. Her right leg moved forward, followed by her left. Robin was still holding on tight and the flex in Brittany's biceps told Santana that most of the weight was on her arms. But damn it all of Brittany wasn't nearly _walking_. It was enough to make Santana feel tears well up. It had been nearly eight months since the accident and with those few steps, Brittany had defied every single odd there was.

Brittany kept kicking forward, inching along the bars until her shoulders began shaking. Sweat was dripping from her forehead and her jaw twitched as she clenched it. Santana almost said something but Robin was a step ahead of her; he quickly slipped one arm behind Brittany's knees and picked her up to carry her back to her chair. Brittany was exhausted, Santana could tell. The Latina knelt down and reached out to wipe the sweat from Brittany's forehead. She was met with a smile brighter than she'd seen in months.

"I am so proud of you, Britt," Santana choked. "Baby, I'm so proud."

"I did it."

"You did it."

"I'm really glad you were here, San."


	6. Chapter 6

**-Chapter 6-**

By March, Brittany was moving the full length of the parallel bars with plenty of help from Robin. At the end of April she could move the full length and the back again, still with plenty of help. Santana had practically moved into the Pierce's house and neither of Brittany's parents seemed to mind. In June she dropped off her last rent check and Brittany made it halfway the length of the parallel bars without Robin's support. In July, Brittany made it the full length of the bars and Santana was at the end to catch her and kiss her to let her know how proud she was. They celebrated that night. It had been a year since the accident and Brittany had come much further than anyone ever expected her to. She would stand at the kitchen counter and hold on as long as she could between physical therapy sessions, taking a few steps if she felt brave and Santana was there to catch her when her knees gave out.

Santana seemed to notice things coming to a plateau in August. Brittany wasn't going any further on the parallel bars than she had been at the beginning of July, always tiring out before she could move any further. She had kept up her exercises, Santana saw to it. But it wasn't enough.

"While the nerves in your arms are working at full function as is obvious by your remarkable recovery," Brittany's orthopedic doctor said, taking off his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose, "we might not be so lucky with your legs."

"Meaning?" Santana growled.

"Meaning that this may be as good as it gets, Ms. Lopez. While her spinal cord didn't experience any severe damage, we know there was more damage to the nerves in her lower extremities than her upper."

"But she can feel everything, she can move. It's her muscles!"

"Muscles and nerves work together. Nerves have to work for muscles to work."

"So I'm not going to walk?"

"You can keep trying, Brittany. Just don't get your hopes up."

If Santana wasn't petrified of going to prison, she probably would've killed Brittany's doctor. She called the doctors in New York and had all of Brittany's information sent to them in hopes for an answer from a doctor that didn't also moonlight as a taxidermist. In only a few days they heard back from Dr. Harris what they absolutely did not want to hear. There was nothing else they could do except the physical therapy.

"Spinal research has come a long way," Dr. Harris said. "But I did what I could, you know that. Just keep working, Brittany. You did more than we thought you ever would, remember that. It may just take some more time for your legs to fully wake up. Nerve damage is unpredictable."

"When will we know if this is it?" Santana asked with a sigh.

"The body will know. Not the brain, the body."

It wasn't what either of them wanted to hear but it threw Brittany into a quick tailspin. Santana noticed it right away. Brittany found ways to skip therapy, she would only get frustrated when she did go and give up easily. It killed Santana to see her back where they were a year ago. And it also scared her beyond imagination. She did her best to be out of the bank on time every single night and spent as much time with her girlfriend as she could. The problem was that Brittany wasn't angry this time. She was flat out depressed.

Santana went again to the psychiatrist with Brittany and Brittany agreed to try a higher dosage of her anti-depressant. For a few weeks, Santana and Brittany's parents still had to push her to going to physical therapy but Brittany's demeanor remained the same. She didn't have the drive or determination to do it.

After Brittany's shower, Santana helped her girlfriend dry off (not because Brittany needed the help, Santana just really loved doing it) and get her pajamas on. It was one of the only times during the day that Santana still saw Brittany smile. They went through Brittany's stretches and Santana tried to coax a few exercises out of her girlfriend but to no avail. Brittany only wanted to get into bed. She did so on her own and pulled herself up to sit against the headboard and Santana massaged the blonde's calves.

"Don't bother," Brittany mumbled. "Doesn't do anything."

"I know you want to give up but I'm not going to. Besides, I know it feels good."

"Yeah."

"Please just keep trying, Britt. Please." Santana leaned down and pressed a kiss to each of Brittany's knees with the hope and the prayer that something miraculous could happen. "_Por favor, Dios,_, she whispered, "_ayuda a sanar_."

"I wish that worked."

"Maybe it will."

"It won't."

"You don't know that." Santana pulled the blankets up to Brittany's waist and began putting things away, picking up clothes. "Remember how you were in the beginning, B? You were determined to walk again. Where did that go?"

Brittany shrugged.

Santana sighed and dropped down to the bed again. "Listen, if you want to give up then that's your choice. But why give up now when you've come so far? And if you give up now and then you want to go back for it the harness company isn't going to pay for it."

"I know, San. It's just really hard."

"I know, baby. I know." Santana leaned forward to kiss her girlfriend, her hand going around the back of Brittany's neck and brushing against the smooth skin of the scar. "I love you, Brittany. I love you so much and you know I'll be here for you no matter what."

XXXXXXXXXX

Santana came with Brittany to her next physical therapy session, determined to find some way to help her girlfriend despite the fact that she knew almost nothing about the subject. What she did find, though, was a pattern she had never seen before. When Brittany was on the parallel bars she would look for the end. She would get frustrated before she got there and give up when she did.

"Can you take her off the bars?" Santana asked Robin while Brittany was on the stationary bike, cooling down.

"What do you mean?"

"She sees her limits. Take her off of them and she won't see the end. She won't give up if she can't see it."

Robin smiled. "Gotcha."

Santana skipped lunch for the next session, just long enough to go in to see how Brittany did without the bars. She got there just in time to see Robin pull Brittany out of her chair by the waist belt and the blonde place her hands on the man's shoulders. She said nothing, only stood in the doorway and watched. And she smirked when she was proven right. Brittany walked all over the floor space, at least the length of three times the parallel bars.

"One more step," Robin coaxed her. "You'll be doing pirouettes tomorrow."

"I can't."

"Do you know how far you walked today, Brittany?"

"A lot," Santana answered. Brittany was startled, her knees gave a little but Robin pulled her back up. "Britt, you walked a lot more than you did even a few days ago."

"No I didn't."

"Yeah you did," Robin said. "You've never walked this far before."

XXXXXXXXXX

Without seeing her limits, Brittany was walking more each day; her muscle strength tests kept spiking up. Santana prayed even more, thanking God for performing what Robin said was a miracle. In mid-November, Santana sat on the large exercise table, nervously chewing on her lower lip as Robin practically skipped away and to a storage closet after announcing that he had gotten Brittany a surprise.

"Let's see how you tackle these," he said, returning with crutches.

"Do they come in pink?" Brittany asked, a little unsure.

Santana only smiled. "You won't need them for very long."

"Silver is ugly."

"I'll spraypaint them," Santana said. "Now come on."

"I…I don't know."

"Britt, I barely hold on to you anymore. Come on, you got this."

Santana watched, holding her breath as Brittany slipped her arms through the forearm cuffs and Robin hoisted her upright. The blonde caught her balance and Santana saw her girlfriend's knuckles turn white as she gripped hard onto the handles. Robin still had his hands around her waist as she got used to the feeling of much less support.

"Try to let a little weight go to your legs, they're strong enough. You'll kill your arms if you keep all your weight on them."

Brittany nodded and Santana saw her relax a little.

"See?" Robin said when Brittany steadied herself again. "You're stronger than you think. You don't give yourself enough credit."

Brittany growled.

"You want to try a step?"

"I think so."

"I won't let you fall, give me a little more determination than that."

Brittany took a deep breath and nodded. "I can do it."

"Good job," Robin said with a grin. "Try it."

Brittany re-adjusted her grip and moved her left arm forward, followed by her right. As soon as she had both rubber grips planted firmly on the floor she moved her left leg, gripped her lower lip between her teeth, and then moved her right. Santana stayed close behind with Brittany's chair, ready to catch her if she fell.

"How'd that feel?"

"Weird."

"Get used to it."

Each time Brittany inched forward, Santana's smile got bigger. She watched her girlfriend move forward, inch by inch, defying all of her doctors and herself. Santana couldn't help but pull out her phone and take video to send to Quinn and Rachel.

"San, come on," Brittany whined

"Babe, this is big. I want everyone to see."

"I'm tired."

"Alright." Santana tucked away her phone and held Brittany's chair steady and let the blonde drop down. She could see the disappointment on Brittany's face, not having gone as far as she had been. But it was still a milestone. Santana had tears in her eyes as she bent over to press a kiss to Brittany's neck.

"I want to show you something," Santana whispered. She pulled Brittany back, halfway across the room while Robin stayed where he was. "That's how far you went. On your own. You're not allowed to tell me that you're not getting better anymore."

Brittany did a double take as she looked from Robin to Santana.

"I did that?"

"You did that, babe."

XXXXXXXXXX

"That is magnificent!" Rachel shrieked, nearly piercing Santana's eardrums. "Brittany, you're walking!"

"Not really."

"Britt," Quinn chimed in. Santana could practically hear the smiles on the other line. "You walked."

"We must celebrate," Rachel said. "We're flying to Lima for Thanksgiving and I demand to have a party. I'll handle all of the arrangements. We'll have a Saturday lunch at my dads' house."

"Whatever you say, Berry. How are the snot factories? I dropped the birthday cards for the boys in the mail yesterday."

"The babies are doing very well. They're officially nine months old tomorrow! We're having their pictures done, we'll bring copies with us."

Santana only smirked. She wouldn't let it slide that she had pictures of all of Quinn and Rachel's kids in her wallet.

XXXXXXXXXX

Things progressed little by little. Brittany took one or two more steps each day before exhausting herself. She was more determined than ever, though. Santana had no problems with that in the least. Brittany had become a little bit more confident and pushed herself with determination. Her New Year's resolution was to walk.

Thanksgiving morning, as John and Anna prepared to receive the Lopez' and the rest of the Pierce family that would be in town for Thanksgiving, Santana and Brittany took over the kitchen. Brittany, standing at the island at her request, did what she could with one free hand as her other gripped onto her crutch.

"B, can you hand me the sage?"

Santana turned just in time to see Brittany grab the container of fresh sage leaves with one hand, her other letting go of the handle on her crutch…and her knees give out. Brittany hit the floor with a loud crash, the bowl with the stuffing coming with her, just as Santana reached to try and catch her. She landed on her side and with a sharp yell, it was the hip they had taken the bone out of and it was still sensitive to pressure, Santana knew. Santana immediately knelt to the ground and ran her hand over Brittany's cheeks and up to her eyes to wipe the tears from them. Disappointment and anger was clear in the bright blues as Brittany took a shuddering breath and dug her fingertips into the hard tile.

"Are you okay?"

John and Anna appeared in the kitchen in only a moment, both immediately kneeling down. John grabbed his daughter's hand and squeezed.

"What happened?" Anna asked. "Did you slip, honey?"

"I fell," Brittany mumbled. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm fine," Brittany growled. "I want to sit up."

Santana instinctively reached her arm underneath her girlfriend and helped pull her up. Shockingly, Brittany let her. The Latina wiped away Brittany's tears yet again, her other hand reaching up to brush over the scar on the back of Brittany's neck.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Anna asked.

Brittany only weakly nodded and moved to swat Santana's hands away. "I said I was fine. I want my chair."

"B…"

"I want my chair."

"Come on sweetie," Anna cooed, "we'll help you up."

The next thing Santana knew a flash of silver went hurling past her head and right through the Pierces' microwave door. Another soon followed and hit the coffee pot right on target sending glass and that morning's coffee flying. Brittany narrowed her eyes at Santana, daring defiance.

"I'll get your chair," John sighed.

"No." Santana clenched her jaw and stood, damn determined not to let Brittany win, and grabbed a broom. "If she's going to act like a three-year-old she can sit there and throw her little tantrum but I'm not dealing with that shit. Our kids won't pull that and neither will she."

Anna nodded. She grabbed a rag and began mopping up the coffee as Santana swept the glass. The Latina unplugged the microwave and tossed Brittany's discarded crutch on the floor next to the blonde.

"Santana!" Brittany pounded her fist on the floor.

Santana kept sweeping. John backed out of the kitchen with an apologetic look on his face.

"Listen to me!"

"So you plan on giving me grandchildren?" Anna asked with a smile, picking up the dish of stuffing and tossing what had hit the floor into the garbage can.

"Hopefully."

"Mom!"

Santana watched out of the corner of her eye as Brittany scooted herself forward and grabbed one discarded crutch. She poked her mother with it before screeching and throwing it back to the floor. Santana still ignored her. She and Anna moved to the kitchen counter where Santana began making another batch of stuffing and Anna cut up the vegetables. It took a full seven minutes before Santana knew that Brittany realized no one was going to help her. The blonde growled and reached up for the island counter to pull herself to her knees.

"Do you want some help, B?"

"Get away."

The muscles in Brittany's biceps and back flexed as she pulled, reaching across the island to grip onto the partition in the sink to pull herself into a final, almost standing position. The blonde gripped onto the island counters, her legs shaking. Santana picked up the crutches from the floor and offered them out; Brittany grabbed one, steadied herself, and then grabbed the other. She glared at Santana and shook her head at her mother before walking out of the kitchen.

"I hope you're happy," she mumbled.

Santana darted around the other side of the island and cut off Brittany's path. She lifted the blonde's face up with her hands and tried to blink back the tears threatening to spill over.

"I am happy."

"You're mean," Brittany mumbled.

"You pulled yourself up off the floor without any help. If me being mean is going to make you do that then fine."

Brittany nodded and Santana did the only thing she could think of to do and that was to pull her girlfriend in and kiss her with everything she had.

Rachel's party was, surprisingly, not an extravagant event. Santana tried not to look too eager as she grabbed Harmony from Quinn and tossed the girl up in the air a few times. She and Brittany settled themselves on the living room floor with Gabriela, Susan, Harmony and Jonah and watched Ethaniel and Adrian swordfight with Brittany's crutches.

"How do you guys do it, seriously?" Santana asked over dinner. Jonah had just thrown a handful peas at Rachel which was, apparently, the most hysterical thing ever to all of the kids. And Santana.

"We wanted a big family," Rachel said, picking peas from her hair. "We make it work. It takes organization and determination."

"You're both insane."

"You'll never love anything more than your own children," Rachel stated. Jonah threw another handful of peas at her, sending everyone into another fit of laughter. "No matter what they do to you."

"You'll find out," Quinn said. "I know Santana wants kids."

"You know...maybe. I've got a couple other things I want to do first."

Brittany's eyebrows furrowed in curiosity and Santana could only chuckle. "What else do you want to do?"

"You'll find out, B."

Quinn and Rachel talked them in to watching the kids for dinner that night. Okay, well, maybe Santana had suggested it...either way, she got to spend time with the kids. They made their own pizzas for dinner and Santana wrestled with Ethaniel and Adrian until both boys fell asleep on the floor. She carried them each up to their room and got them into their pajamas before tucking them in to bed, kissing each of their foreheads before she shut the door. By the time she got back downstairs, Susan had fallen asleep in Brittany's lap while Harmony and Jonah slept peacefully in their playpen.

"Aunt Tana?" Gabriela crawled up on Santana's lap. "I want cousins to play with for Christmas."

"Uh," Santana stammered. "Not this year, okay sweetie?"

"Next year?"

"I don't know." Santana glanced at Brittany. "We'll see."

"I asked Santa for them. Mommy and Mama said we're not gonna have anymore brothers or sisters but we might have cousins."

"Sometimes Santa can't do stuff," Brittany chimed in. "But he'll give you patience."

By the time Rachel, Quinn, and Rachel's dads got home, Santana was asleep on the kids' bedroom floor, a book on her lap and resting up against Gabriela's bed. She had left Brittany in the living room stretched out on the couch with Susan asleep on top of her. It wasn't a half bad way to end a day, Santana decided when Quinn woke her. She helped Quinn get the twins up to their bedroom, Rachel following behind with Susan while Brittany and the Berry men cleaned up the living room.

"I'm going to ask her to marry me," Santana whispered, settling Harmony down in the upstairs playpen.

Quinn had to put a hand over Rachel's mouth to muffle the brunette's squeal. Santana only rolled her eyes and swept her fingers through Harmony's blonde hair, smiling at the softness.

"When?" Rachel gasped.

"I don't know yet."

"Oh Santana!" Rachel whispered. "This is so wonderful!"

"Congratulations, San," Quinn said, reaching her arms out for a hug. "It's about damn time."

"I know a fabulous jeweler-"

"I think we'll just do wedding rings," Santana cut her off. "It's not like finances are tight right now but if we want to move back to New York, we'll need to save up."

"I think I know of a great apartment for sale," Quinn said with a smile. "Good neighborhood, four bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms, spacious kitchen and family room..."

"I'll let you know, Q."


	7. Chapter 7

**-Chapter 7-**

The next Monday at therapy, after stretching, Brittany thrust her crutches at Robin and proclaimed, "I don't want these anymore."

"You heard her," Santana said. "She doesn't want them."

"Let's get to work, then."

Thanks to Santana's office being inundated with new customers due to one of Lima's other banks shutting down, her time with Brittany at therapy was extremely limited up until Christmas. She mostly only got away just as Brittany was leaving with John or Anna but never in time to see any progress. Brittany kept using her crutches at home and Santana's heart broke when, by Christmas, she had appeared not to have made any progress at all. It was infuriating, to say the least, when Robin had assured them that Brittany would only continue to make progress.

Three days before Christmas, Santana took off work early and stormed into the physical therapy center and right up to Robin to demand answers. She wasn't going to be nice anymore, she was done with nice. She had a wedding to plan and a girl she wanted to see walk down the aisle, damn it, and she wasn't waiting any longer.

"What the hell do you think you're doing telling her she'll get better?"

"Good afternoon to you, too, Santana."

"She trusts you, you idiot! You can't lie to her. I want her to get better as much as anyone else, probably more, but if she isn't then you need to tell us."

"Santana…"

"And another thing-"

"Santana!"

"What?"

"Turn around." Robin nodded and pointed to the parallel bars.

Santana spun around and surveyed the large room. Her eyes landed on a blonde standing between the bars, a woman behind her and Brittany's hands barely touching the bars, and staring right back at her. Brittany took a tentative step forward and the woman behind her encouraged her to take another.

"Once we convinced her she could do it, there was no stopping her. I don't know what it was...but she just wouldn't stop."

Not taking her eyes off of Brittany, Santana eyed the woman behind _her_ woman. "Who the hell-"

"Lauren. I threw my back out, I can't catch Brit if she falls so Lauren helps out."

"I wanted to surprise you," Brittany said quietly. "I was waiting for Christmas so you'd think Santa did it."

"Holy shit." Disbelief wasn't a strong enough word. Brittany was standing, her fingertips gracing the bars ever-so gently, just for reassurance.

"Take a step," Lauren said. "Show her."

Santana watched anxiously as Brittany took a step forward. Her knees were still a little shaky, her steps not completely coordinated. But she was taking them. One by one, Brittany moved forward. It was something Santana hadn't felt since before the accident. It was like a weight was lifted off and there was nothing to be worried about anymore. She could practically see the pieces of their lives falling back together. Her feet carried her swiftly to her girl and she pulled Brittany into her arms and cried on her shoulder. There was one last piece, though, that Santana needed for it to be whole.

"Britt?" she choked.

"Yeah, San?"

Santana reached up, lips grazing Brittany's ear. She knew it was the right time. No other time could be more perfect.

"Will you marry me?"

Brittany pulled back, blue eyes wide. For a moment, Santana feared rejection. Until Brittany smiled.

"Really?"

"Really. We've been through hell and I know since we got through this we can get through anything. And I don't want to go through anything with anyone else. Just you. I love you, Britt."

"I love you, too."

Santana didn't care who the hell saw, she kissed her fiancee with everything she had until Brittany's knees went weak.

Brittany didn't skip out of the hospital, they knew she wouldn't. But she did walk through the front door of the house, holding on to Santana's arm. The Latina held on tight to her fiancee as they stepped over the threshold into the living room.

"Mom?" Brittany called out. "Dad?"

"In the kitchen, honey," Anna called out.

Santana grinned leading the way to the kitchen with Brittany taking steps behind her. They stood together just inside the kitchen before either of Brittany's parents looked up. It was what she had assumed her own face looked like when she first saw Brittany standing between the parallel bars, unsupported. To prove the point, she let go of Brittany's arms and watched Anna and John's faces light up as Brittany took a few steps forward.

"Santa did it," Brittany said with a grin.

In a flash, Santana was engulfed with Brittany in the Pierces' arms and nearly unable to breathe. If this was their reaction to Brittany walking, she really didn't want to know what would happen when-

"Santana asked me to marry her," Brittany managed to choke out. "I said yes."

After screaming in Santana's ear, Anna began sobbing on her shoulder and Santana was almost forgetting what it felt like to have oxygen to her brain. It was worth it, though. 

XXXXXXXXXX

"When's the wedding date?" Rachel shrieked, practically tackling Santana when she and Brittany entered the Berry house for their New Year's Eve dinner. "I know a wonderful wedding planner, he-"

"Relax, Berry. We've got some time."

It was amazing to see Brittany lifting Susan when the little girl reached up for her. Santana watched, Jonah snuggled in her arms as Brittany tumbled on the floor with Ethaniel and Adrian, lifting them with her legs like it was nothing. Her endurance ran out quickly but it didn't stop her from wrestling with the boys as much as she could, wearing them out until they snuggled up to her on the floor and focused on the TV.

"You'll be great parents, you know?" Rachel said, dropping down on the couch, Harmony clinging to her until she spotted Jonah in Santana's arms.

"Maybe." Santana made room for Harmony, the girl practically shoving Jonah away to snuggle up to her.

"Santana."

"I know, Berry," Santana mumbled.

"Listen," Rachel said, grinning and running her fingers through Harmony's curly locks, "I know you don't like me. But I've told you before and I will tell you again, you're family to Quinn and me, Santana. You can talk to me, you know?"

"I like you," Santana mumbled.

"Pardon?"

"I like you," she growled, eliciting a smile from Rachel. "I don't hate you...it's just really fun to make fun of you, okay? It's like, showing affection or whatever. God, wipe that stupid grin off your face."

Rachel chuckled, putting her hand on Santana's shoulder. "What are you so afraid of?"

"All this sh-stuff that happened with Britt...what if that had been my kid? I love Britt but I'd be even more fu-freaking terrified if that happened to my kid. Heck, I'd be terrified if that happened to one of _your_ kids."

"You've handled the situation beautifully, Santana. And as a mother, you would do the same. You'll do anything for your children. Your godchildren are so very lucky to have you and Brittany in their lives; your own children will be just as lucky to have two amazing mothers. And two very talented and awesome godmothers who will be there for you whenever possible."

Santana could only nod and kiss the tops of Harmony's and Jonah's heads, both fast asleep in her arms. Brittany was softly snoring, Ethaniel on top of her and Adrian snuggled up next to her, also both asleep. It was another one of those perfect moments until Gabriela and Susan came running through the living room with Quinn on their heels, a tray full of snacks and drinks in hand. Apparently, Santana found out, food summoned children from any state of unconsciousness because Ethaniel and Adrian were immediately up and cramming whatever they could into their mouths and then reaching for Brittany again with sticky fingers.

"Berry," Santana said, grabbing Rachel's arm before she stood. She lowered her voice and her eyes darted to Quinn, occupied with wiping down sticky fingers and Brittany's face. "Don't you dare tell anyone I like you, got it?"

Rachel smiled. "It'll be our little secret."

"Thanks. You know...for everything."

"You're welcome, Santana."

When the ball dropped at midnight there were kisses all around and, unlike the year before, Santana pulled her fiancee in close and let her nose barely graze Brittany's.

"I love you, Britt."

"I love you too, San. So much."

Santana rang in the New Year as she had wanted to, with a kiss from her girl. It elicited several "ews" from their godchildren – they responded by pulling each of them in and planting sloppy-wet kisses on their cheeks and wrestling until Rachel and Quinn declared that it was bedtime for anyone under the age of 21. Brittany wasn't keen on tackling the stairs just yet, she settled for cleaning up the living room while Santana helped herd the kids upstairs and get them into bed. She helped Quinn change Harmony and Jonah into their pajamas and tucked Susan in.

"Aunt Tana?"

"Yeah, Suzie Q?"

"I wuv you," the little blonde mumbled around the thumb stuck in her mouth. It melted Santana's heart. She could _so_ get used to that.

"I love you too, sweetie."

When Santana and Brittany fell in to bed together that night, Santana definitely had the intent on ringing in the new year with a a little sweet lady love time as she roamed her hands up Brittany's stomach but the blonde stopped her with a grin.

"When are we moving back to New York?"

"Whenever you're ready, Britt. We've got a place to live, I can transfer back. If you keep doing therapy and stuff, your dance company will take you back."

"What if I don't want to go back? What if I want to teach or something?"

Santana furrowed her eyebrows. "Why-"

"I want us to have kids, you know that."

"I know, but you can still perform."

Brittany shrugged. "It'll be easier to teach and have babies. And I kinda already have a job."

This was news to Santana. Granted, Brittany had plenty of time during the day to plan things without her between teaching classes and various therapies but Brittany hadn't said anything about going back to work. She had talked to her co-stars and her company directors, of course, keeping them updated on her condition but Santana wasn't aware of anything beyond that.

"You have..."

"A girl from the company started a studio and said if I wanted to come back and teach that she'd leave a spot open."

"When did this happen?"

"I wanted to surprise you." Brittany smiled, her blue eyes sparkling.

"You're just full of surprises, babe." Santana mumbled, stretching up to kiss her fiancee and finally getting her way of ringing in the New Year. 

XXXXXXXXXX

A U-Haul was packed and ready to go by mid-March, winter storms having delayed the move twice. They celebrated the move by donating Brittany's wheelchair and all of the other accessories the Pierces' had in their home to the hospital. The blonde was walking as if she'd done it for years and Robin officially released her from therapy but had given her plenty of exercises to keep up once they got back to New York.

Rachel and Quinn had cleared out the apartment the week before, having found a more spacious one...just a floor below the old one. They did leave behind the treadmill, Brittany having mentioned needing one so she could begin jogging in the mornings.

"We're gonna be neighbors!" Gabriela had squealed over the phone.

"Of course we may ask you to check in on our place from time to time," Rachel said.

"No problem, Berry. You're giving us a hell of a deal on this, seriously. Thank you."

Getting settled in was easy enough, Santana transitioning back to work was a little more difficult. She had her old office back but the hours were going to take some getting used to. And the view of the hospital outside her window made her stomach churn. It took two weeks before her boss casually mentioned a branch manager position opening across the city and near Brittany's studio. Santana took it immediately. She had a future family to consider, damn it, and she wanted to make sure she'd be able to spend as much time with them as possible.

Santana was there when Brittany did her very first pirouette in April. Two weeks later the Pierces, Lopezes, and Fabray-Berrys were in New York and Rachel was helping Santana fix her makeup as she stood outside the door of the courtroom where, inside, her parents, Brittany's parents, her godchildren, and a judge were waiting.

"Nervous?" Rachel asked, brushing a stray eyelash from Santana's cheek.

"What the hell? No. We've been together for...forever."

"I was a nervous wreck."

"Trust me, I remember."

Rachel smiled, adjusting the straps of Santana's white, sleeveless shirt and motioning for the Latina to put her navy blue jacket on. "I still don't understand why you refused to wear a dress."

"Because I look damn fine in a power suit."

"You do look very lovely."

"Powerful, Berry. The word is powerful."

"Of course, Santana. Time to go!"

Santana followed Rachel to the courtroom entrance and accepted a kiss on the cheek and a smile from her friend before Rachel opened the double doors and made her entrance, Santana right behind her. It wasn't anything exciting, they didn't have any desire for it to be. But one thing they both had demanded: Brittany walk down the aisle. Santana turned just in time to see Quinn walking down the aisle with a grin on her face and her eyes locked with Rachel's.

Then, behind her, Brittany stepped into the doorway with her floor-length pale blue gown and Santana could think of nothing else. Her soon-to-be wife practically floated down the aisle toward her and smiled in the way that could melt Santana's heart as she stopped in front of her.

"Hey," Brittany whispered.

"You look amazing."

"You're hot."

Santana could only chuckle. That night, as she and Brittany lay in bed, she snuggled up to her wife and drifted off to sleep. 

XXXXXXXXXX

Flashes went through Santana's dreams, screams and cries and nursing. Diapers, toys, and baths. But always back to the crying. She woke up groggily, Brittany nudging her in the ribs and mumbling.

"S' Sugar," Brittany grumbled.

"I'm up."

Dreams are peculiar things. Santana's more often than not revolved around her family, all of them. Rachel, Quinn, her godchildren, her parents, Brittany's parents...and of course their second daughter daughter currently residing in Brittany.

Five years before, Santana would never have guessed that when she held her daughter close and Brittany walked in to hold the both of them that every single one of her dreams had come true.

**The End**


End file.
